Breaking Even
by unc-annie
Summary: Set immediately after No More Bets, Sara and Grissom discuss his choice for the key position


Title: Breaking Even  
  
By: UNCAnnie  
  
Rating: G  
  
Disclaimer: As always, I don't own the characters or anything associated with CSI.  
  
Summary: Set immediately after No More Bets, Sara and Grissom discuss his decision regarding the key CSI position. Spoilers for No More Bets and everything up to that episode.  
  
"Do you have a minute?" She hesitated in his doorway like she had so many times in the past.  
  
His head whipped up at the sound of her voice, but he didn't respond immediately.  
  
"I need to talk to you," she said, pressing the issue.  
  
"Sure," he said slowly. "Come in."  
  
She stepped inside his office, closed the door and sat. She perched on the edge of her chair, legs crossed, hands clasped in her lap. "I want to talk to you about the key position. About your recommendation."  
  
His eyes closed as he exhaled loudly. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the obvious tension.  
  
"I didn't come here to fight with you," she said softly. "I just want to know why. I want to know what I need to improve. I need some sort of feedback from you. How am I supposed to learn if you won't teach me?"  
  
His eyes opened and met hers. "I told you, Sara-"  
  
"You told me that you recommended Nick because he didn't care whether he got the position or not. That doesn't make any sense to me because he DID care, and besides that, why would you want to hire someone who didn't want the position? I don't understand, Grissom. Help me understand." Her voice was filled with hurt and confusion, but any desire she had to reproach him was kept tightly under wraps.  
  
He licked his lips and opened his mouth, but no words came out. "I don't know if I can explain it."  
  
"Grissom, I need you to do this for me. I'm trying really hard to understand this. If there's something that I'm doing that's not up standards¼I need to know."  
  
"It's not that, Sara. You're a great CSI. You're one of the best."  
  
"Then what is it? Is it politics? Is it people skills? It can't be commitment - I practically live here. It can't be my solve rate - I know it's better than Nick's. What is it?"  
  
He was silent.  
  
"Were you worried about the gossip?"  
  
He raised his eyebrows questioningly and she rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. If I'd gotten the promotion, there would have been gossip. There are plenty of people in this lab who think I'm sleeping my way to the top - or trying to."  
  
His mouth fell open.  
  
"Ironic, isn't it? Especially since I couldn't even get you to go to dinner with me."  
  
"Sara¼."  
  
"Don't worry," she said, raising her hand to stop him. "I'm not here to rehash that. You made your position on our personal relationship perfectly clear; not just that day, but plenty of days since. I'm here to talk about our professional relationship."  
  
Grissom sighed again and remained quiet. Sara shook her head, a humorless grin spreading across her face. "My fear is that the two have overlapped in your mind. Please tell me it's not personal. Please tell me you didn't recommend Nick because you hate working with me so much that you couldn't bare the thought of promoting me to a position where we'd have to work more closely together."  
  
"No! I don't hate you, Sara. I could never¼."  
  
"Then WHAT? God, Grissom, I deserve an answer. Can't you at least give me that much?"  
  
"It wasn't a matter of anything you did wrong," he said suddenly, his tone startling her. She flinched, but relaxed when he began to speak again, his voice under control once again. "I simply thought that Nick was better suited to the job."  
  
Sara sighed, and rolled her eyes discretely.   
  
After a long pause, he began to speak again. "I don't want to waste you on administrative crap. I hate that part of my job. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially you. You're like me, Sara. You need to be in the middle of everything. You need to be at the scenes, processing the evidence, going over cases. Do you really want to spend twice as much time doing paperwork and making staff schedules? Nick doesn't mind that part of the job - and he's good at all the human relations stuff that would bore you to tears. I don't want you stuck in an office. You're my best investigator. I don't want to waste you."  
  
Sara was quiet for a minute, and Grissom shifted uncomfortably in his chair.   
  
"That's a much better answer," she said finally. "I don't necessarily agree with it, but I understand now."  
  
Silence descended on the room again, and his eyes darted from her to the door, obviously wondering why she hadn't left yet if that was all she wanted.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me this to start with? Why didn't you call me into your office and explain this to me before I had to hear it from Nick? Or at the very least, why didn't you tell me this when I asked you the first time?"  
  
"I don't know." He sighed and dropped his gaze to his desk. "It's hard¼for me to talk to you."  
  
"It didn't used to be," she said softly.  
  
"I know."  
  
"What happened to us?" she asked, shaking her head in confusion. "Do you remember how much fun we used to have working together? When did it stop being fun? When did we stop being friends?"  
  
"We're friends," Grissom said unconvincingly, continuing to stare at his desk.  
  
"Do you even remember why we're fighting anymore?"  
  
"We're not fighting," he said, looking up finally.  
  
"Aren't we? We argue all the time. And when we're not arguing¼a lot of time it feels like the only reason we aren't is because it's too much effort and we'd rather just ignore each other."  
  
"Sara¼."  
  
She waited, but he never finished his thought. "Grissom, can I ask you a question?"  
  
He looked at her warily, but nodded.  
  
"Do you want me leave?"  
  
"What? Of course not!"  
  
She held up a hand to stop him. "I'm not accusing you of anything or trying to fight with you about this. I really want to know. I know that we're making each other miserable. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about looking for a new job. The lab is great, but there are other labs. I have nothing to hold me in Las Vegas. If it would be easier¼I'll start looking. I can't guarantee that I'll find something right away, but¼."  
  
Grissom cracked his knuckles and shifted in his seat, obviously agitated. "I don't want you to leave, Sara."  
  
She smiled sadly, thinking of a time when those simple words would have meant the world to her. "I don't really want to leave either, but I can't live like this."  
  
"Are you giving me some sort of ultimatum?"  
  
She sighed, frustrated. "No, Grissom. I'm trying to explain this to you. I'm not giving you conditions, I'm communicating with you - telling you what I need."  
  
They were both quiet for a moment, at a standstill. Finally he broke the silence, his words soft and earnest. "What do you need, Sara?"  
  
"I need¼." She was at a loss suddenly, unable to put into words what she needed.  
  
"I know I was ignoring you," he said softly. "Pushing you away."  
  
Her head shot up. She'd never expected him to admit that, especially unprompted.  
  
"I've been trying to rectify that. We've worked together a lot lately. As much as I've worked with anyone else, at least. I'm trying, Sara."  
  
"I don't want you to work with me because you feel like you have to," she said softly. "I hate that you think of it like a chore."  
  
"Sara¼." The pain in his voice was so acute that she couldn't resist looking up at him. His eyes mirrored the pain, and he shook his head. "I love working with you. I never have more fun than when I'm working with you."  
  
To her horror she felt her eyes well up with tears. She blinked furiously, trying to contain them. She heard him get up, and suddenly he was crouched in front of her, one hand caressing her cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped.  
  
"I hate that I do this to you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotions. "I hate myself for hurting you. I wouldn't blame you for hating me."  
  
"I don't hate you," she said softly, echoing his words to her from earlier in the conversation. She smiled, trying to lighten the mood of the conversation, but failing. "I tried. Believe me, I tried. And there were definitely days that I thought I did."  
  
"But you're still here."  
  
"Am I?" She saw a spark of recognition in his eyes, but before he could question her about it, she pressed on. "I don't even recognize the person I've become. I'm sad and bitter and frustrated."  
  
He frowned her last comment, his fingers still stroking her cheek. "Why did you stay?"  
  
She was quiet for minute, then covered his hand with her own. "Because every time I seriously considered leaving, you did something like this. I just kept thinking that if I was patient, someday you'd ¼ finish battling your demons and¼."  
  
"But you just offered to leave," he reminded her breathlessly.  
  
"Maybe I've finally given up."  
  
His eyes were unreadable, one emotion battling another. Then, before she could comprehend what was happening, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. The kiss was over so quickly, she wasn't even sure she hadn't dreamt it. She gaped at him, speechless.  
  
"Don't give up," he whispered. "Please don't give up." 


End file.
